


The Package

by MrSpockify



Series: Peter Parker is trans and there's nothing you can do about it [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: FTM, Fluff, Gender Dysphoria, Iron Dad, Packing, Trans Character, Trans Peter Parker, Transgender, graphic depictions of kind gestures, spider son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 02:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17820074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrSpockify/pseuds/MrSpockify
Summary: Tony opens Peter's mail without asking, is met with an uncomfortable and unexpected surprise, and takes it upon himself to help the kid out.





	The Package

**Author's Note:**

> There are plenty of stories about Peter binding (all of which are lovely, of course), but I'm not sure if I've ever seen one about packing. So here's this, I guess? I'm a little tipsy, so I apologize in advance.

                Tony loved the Parker household. It was small—much smaller than anything he’d ever lived in—and periodically he’d hear footsteps or conversations from apartments above or below. But it was also cozy and gave off a distinct vibe that said _people live here_. Pictures lined the walls, mostly of Peter throughout the ages. One particular photo of Peter showed him giving the camera a huge smile to show off his missing two front teeth. The photo’s slight blur suggested the child, much like today, could hardly sit still.

                Tony _may_ have taken a quick photo of that one with his phone. Maybe not. Who’s to say?

                Speaking of the kid, Tony thought, looking down at his watch. Peter should have come home almost an hour ago. May was gone for the weekend to go to a conference, and Tony wanted to pop by and see how the kid was doing. _I just need to make sure he didn’t set his apartment on fire_ , Tony had defended himself when Rhodey teased him about his affection for the kid. He was just checking up, like any sensible adult would do.

                Still, he was getting pretty worried as the minutes ticked by. After exactly 12 minutes—an eternity to Tony—he pulled out his phone and dialed the kid.

                “Mr. Stark?” Peter answered.

                “Hey, kid. You alright? You’re not at your apartment.” He glanced around the place and wondered briefly if it was weird that he let himself in. May gave him a key a while ago, but he hadn’t made a habit of actually using it.

                “Oh! Uh, yeah…” Tony heard shuffling from over the phone and a voice in the background asking who it was. A moment later Tony could heard someone in the distance scream _Tony Stark_!?  Probably the kid’s friend. Ted, or Fred, or something. “I’m actually at Ned’s place.” Ned, that’s it. “We had planned a weekend sleepover and Star Wars marathon. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming over. Is everything ok? Do you need me for a mission?” Tony could hear the growing excitement in the kid’s voice, so he needed to jump in quick.

                “No, no mission today, squirt.” He could actually _feel_ the kid deflating on the other end of the call. “This was supposed to be a surprise visit. I was going to come by, you’d answer the door all ‘Mr. Stark! My favorite Avenger! I’m so happy to see you!’” He raised his voice a few octaves to mimic Peter. “But I guess that plan’s ruined, huh?”

                “Sorry!” Tony could hear more shuffling from Peter’s end, as well as hushed conversation. “I can be there in like 10 minutes, is that okay? Or I can—”

                “No, no,” Tony butted in. “Stay there, kid, it’s alright. Just watch your Star Trek—”

                “ _Wars_.”

                “Whatever. I’ll catch you next week for lab time, okay?”

                “Yeah. Thanks Mr. Stark. See you then,” Peter said. Then, before Tony could hang up, “Oh! Mr. Stark, if there’s a package outside the door, could you put that in my room somewhere? I kinda don’t want May to get to it first.”

                “Why? What’d you order?” Tony asked sternly, but was already grabbing the small box and heading to the kid’s room. “Is it drugs?”

                “No! I didn’t order drugs,” Peter said with a chuckle. Tony could hear Ned laugh a little, too, closer to the phone now. “It’s just, um… a package? My package. It’s a, uh, package.” He stammered, and then the two boys were howling with laughter. Tony waited for them to calm down. “S-sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter managed to say. “It’s nothing, really. I promise.”

                “Alright, whatever. You two just go be nerds, I’ll see you later.”

                “Thanks, Mr. Stark. Bye.”

                They hung up, and Tony should have just turned around to go back to his car. He should just go home now, since there was nothing else to do here. Nothing at all. But…

                He eyed the suspicious box he’d set on Peter’s bed. What was he hiding? The kid had a habit of keeping stuff from him, that was for sure. Injuries, locations, reckless plans to catch bad guys, you name it. Anything could be in that box. What if it was a weapon? He’d be damned if he’d let Spider-Man go out shooting people. Or what if someone rigged the box, because they knew Peter would open it? It could be a bomb. A _bomb_.

                Tony sighed and grabbed the box. He knew it wasn’t a bomb, but his curiosity was too much to handle. Inside the box there were a few folded pieces of paper that looked like instruction manuals or something, so he tossed those aside to see what was actually there.

                It was a dick.

                Instinctively, he threw the box across the room. He didn’t need to know about… _that_ , or whatever, regarding his intern—or, basically, the kid he’d grown to consider his own son, almost. That was just way, _way_ too much information. If he wanted to buy dildos that was none of Tony’s business. He really didn’t want it to be his business. At _all_.

                He gave himself a moment to collect his thoughts and calm down. As he walked over and gingerly picked up the box—pointedly looking anywhere but in it—he tried not to think about how the kid would know he had opened the box. That was going to be an uncomfortable conversation. Or, knowing them, there wasn’t going to be a conversation about it at all. Just a couple weeks of awkward tension.

                Tony sat the box back down on the bed and crouched to pick up the papers strewn on the floor. One caught his eye, and before he could remember that this wasn’t information he wanted, he read the bold letters at the top: **FtM Packer Basics**.

                He paused. He knew that acronym from hanging around Peter for so long. He’d come out as transgender a while back, but Tony never really thought about it that often.

                Tony felt his whole body relax. So this _wasn’t_ a dildo. He scanned the page to make sure, and let himself sigh in relief as he read about what a packer actually was. _This_ he could work with. It was still a little awkward to find, but certainly much less embarrassing.

                Tension gone, he let himself glance into the box again. Even through the wrinkled plastic wrapping, he could tell it was a rudimentary design. Sure, it was shaped right, but other than that there wasn’t really any resemblance to anything Tony had seen before. It was weirdly smooth and rounded, and the color was definitely not any recognizable skin tone. If he had to bet, Tony was willing to say this was probably the cheapest packer on the market.

                He finished putting everything back in the box and closed it, praying that maybe Peter wouldn’t notice that someone had definitely cut through the tape and opened it up. Or maybe he’d go for the “it was an accident” excuse.

                Tony left the Parker apartment, sliding on his sunglasses as he headed back to his car. He had research to do.

                

* * *

 

                The next week, Peter sat silently in the back of the car as Happy drove him up to the compound for his weekend with Mr. Stark. He was… _nervous_ , to say the least.

                When Peter had gotten home from his sleepover with Ned, he had immediately realized someone had opened the package on his bed. Anxiously, he had asked May if she opened up his mail, but she assured him she’d never do that. That made him feel better for all of two seconds before he realized there was only one other person who could have opened it.

                His humiliation made Peter hold off for three days before actually trying out the packer. It was clunky and uncomfortable, and as he stared at himself from the side in the mirror, the clearly fake bulge made him want to cry. The embarrassment hadn’t even been worth it. His makeshift bundle of socks looked better than this.

                Not that he’d be wearing that, either, in front of Mr. Stark ever again. He’d only started packing recently, and the fact that his mentor— _idol_ —knew about it made his ears burn in shame. He didn’t want Iron Man thinking about what was in his pants. _Ever_.

                The car slowed to a stop, and Peter gulped. It was now or never.

                Peter wasn’t sure he could have snuck into the lab any quieter than he had, but somehow Mr. Stark still knew he was there.

                “Kid!” He whirled around in his chair and took off a pair of safety goggles.

                “H-hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter replied, trying his best to look casual and failing miserably. He leaned against a table and crossed, uncrossed, then crossed his arms again.

                Fortunately, his mentor didn’t seem to notice. Or, at least, was too kind to point his awkwardness out. “We’re working on DUM-E today; he needs a tune-up.” The bot beeped obliviously behind him. “You might want to go upstairs and change, though. Your clothes will be filthy.” He gestured vaguely to the elevator before turning back in his chair and continuing whatever work he had been up to.

                Peter felt his whole body relax. So this was how they would play it. Pretend nothing had ever even happened. He could do that. He _preferred_ that, actually.

                On the elevator up to the floor with his room, Peter let himself wonder if maybe even Mr. Stark forgot what he had seen. Maybe his mentor didn’t even remember the fake, flaccid penis in a box. People could easily forget something like that, right?

                When he got to his room, Peter started to undress, tossing his clothes onto the floor carelessly. Only once he was in front of his dresser, reaching for the drawer with his t-shirts, did he notice a bright yellow sticky note on the top drawer.

_Try these on for size.  
-T.S._

                Peter scrunched his face up in confusion. Try _what_ on for size? At a loss, he opened the drawer in question and—

                Oh. Oh no.

                There were dicks. Dicks everywhere.

                Peter flinched and stepped away as if he’d been slapped in the face. A slow blush crept up his neck until his entire face felt like it was on fire. Mr. Stark _definitely_ remembered the package.

                The wave of shame that crashed over him nearly had Peter sobbing. A knot started to form in his throat, and he couldn’t help being a little angry at his mentor. Why would he do this? Was Peter just some kind of joke to him? Oh, the little trans kid wanted to explore something new, so ha ha, let’s fill his room with dicks, what a funny prank.

                Peter swiped at his eyes in frustration. He didn’t want to cry over this, it was stupid. Except it hurt _really_ bad. This was something he’d expect from Flash, not his hero. This one stabbed way too close to his heart.

                With a deep breath, Peter stepped up to the drawer again, prepared to slam it shut. A closer inspection of the content, however, made him stop.

                One side of the drawer was filled with packers of different shapes, sizes, and colors, all of which were eerily realistic and detailed. Definitely more so than anything he’d seen online. Beside those were several pairs of underwear. Peter lifted one up and realized they were made specifically for packing, to keep everything in place. Finally, tucked away in the corner of the drawer were several brand new binders, all of them the exact color of his skin—save two, one of which was Spider-Man themed, and the other, of course, Iron Man.

                Oh.

                An overwhelming emotion swelled in Peter’s chest as he took everything in. Tears sprung up in his eyes, but this time it wasn’t in embarrassment. Mr. Stark wasn’t being mean. He was being kind. Beyond kind, really. This was… Peter didn’t even have words.

                “Peter,” FRIDAY’s voice chimed in, pulling him from his daze. “Boss would like to know if everything is alright. You’ve been up here for longer than expected.”

                Peter laughed through his tears as he lightly ran a hand over everything in awe. His life was really something else, that was for sure.

                “Yeah, FRI,” he replied, reaching in and grabbing a few items. He smiled to himself and headed to the bathroom. “Everything is ok. It’s perfect, actually.”

                As he looked at himself in the mirror, Peter sighed in relief. It really was perfect.


End file.
